Why I moved to Israel: Part II or "Born to Wander"

I have always been a nomad. The longest I have ever lived in one place was six years, and that was two years too many. I grew up moving, as did my parents. I have no hometown and I don't feel allegiance to any particular place, (though SF, NYC and London are very close to my heart) this includes America as a whole. I have never believed that Americans do it better than all other 1st world, liberal countries. The older I get, the more the US irks me. I find myself opposing more and more of the policies of the country of my birth. From the war on drugs to healthcare to welfare needs to maternity leave...I disagree with how America wants to treat its people and in the past few years it has bothered me more and more.

A map of the places my family lived up until 1998. This hangs in my parent's house. 

I lost everything in the last year or so. I ended a long term relationship with the man I thought I was going to marry, I was laid-off at my awesome job because of situations beyond my control and my cheap and perfect NYC apartment was ripped from my hands with no warning while I was traveling. On top of that there was a very tragic and young death in my family, leaving me to help take care of a rambunctious 12 year old for about a month before leaving for Birthright. Things were quite hard for me, and I am very lucky that I had (have) a support network of incredible friends who made me smile and took me in and smothered me in love. Without them, as well as a new and amazing romantic relationship, I would've been in the deep depths of depression...but even with them, something was not right.

The Negev desert. Massive and beautiful
Photo by Justin Tyler Russikoff

I found peace in the desert. I have not seen many deserts in my life, but I have loved every one I've been to. As soon as our bus started heading into the Negev desert I couldn't sleep, I was captivated by the beauty and wide expanse of it all. I'm not sure exactly what it is about the desert that makes me feel so calm...perhaps it is because it is the polar opposite to a city, and I am nothing if not a city girl. Perhaps it is because the desert tends to draw unusual people to it - I mean, who actually chooses to be where there is no water, little shade and extreme temperatures, not to mention a need for radical self-reliance, if you aren't prepared for the desert, you will die...and that's that. Or maybe it's the same reason I enjoy snorkeling and seeing under the sea so much, its a chance to see what human beings cannot conquer. Bedouins and similar tribes are the only people who have made the desert their home (without extensive man made infrastructures which neutralize the difficulties that make a desert the desert) and they only survive it by being nomadic and deeply respecting that cruel, sandy mistress. You cannot conquer the desert.

Black Rock Desert or The Playa. Tell me, what does the fox say at sunrise sans champagne?
Photo by David Katz

Upon arriving, amidst complaints of Americans that it's too hot and "oh my god, we have to sleep outside in a tent?!"I felt great. I felt at home. Some of you know of another desert that many people call home (yes, I know it's technically not a real desert but let's not bicker about semantics), a desert where we set up a community full of lights and fire and art and people. And yes, Burning Man is a city, but every year I spend the bulk of my time out in the deeps, where there is little to no light except for the stars, and no sound but the wind howling and the dust getting ready for a white out. I love the sound of the desert, it is so big and powerful.

At night our birthright guide, a fellow desert lover, took us all out to lie under the stars and listen to stories about the constellations and the Jewish people. It hit me that my love of the desert may have something to do with the lore of my people, of the wandering of the desert and the incessant need to hold onto this tiny strip of land that is 60% desert. I walked away from the group and found a high spot to stand on and relax and look around. I made my decision to move to Israel at that moment. I felt at peace, while also coursing with energy and potential for the future. As hostile as the desert is, everyone is welcome there, any weirdo or freak can go and be alone, or even better they can go and draw other like minded freaks there.

Look at the Jews wander the desert!
Photo by Justin Tyler Russikoff

Just this week my new group of Americans in Israel (who will always be referred to as Taglit by Israeli's even though we're not) went to the Negev for three days. While it wasn't what I wanted - sleeping under the stars, some solitude, better hikes - it was still wonderful and very informative as far as what challenges the Negev provides. I am not going to give a history lesson on Ben Gurion because I hardly know anything, but I absolutely love that Israel's first Prime Minister was the biggest desert cheerleader. He encouraged Israelis to make the desert theirs, he even joined a kibbutz in the Negev, away from the cities and infrastructure and politics, to this day it is where his body lies (while most other Prime Ministers are buried in Jerusalem's national cemetery). I find his love of the desert, as well as all the people who have struggled to make the land work for them inspiring.

I have already looked into artists communes in the desert. One of the Americans scoffed when I asked the guide if he knew of any and I was so pleased that he responded with exactly what I wanted to hear "Yes, there are many strange people in the Negev." I will be wandering the desert, and there will be more to come from my favorite hostile environment. I will not be making it to Black Rock this year, but I will be involved with putting on Midburn, Israel's 4 day regional festival in the desert. I can't wait. I am eager to let the desert of my people invigorate and center me, just the way the desert of my freaky people, my selected family, always has. Though I will be busy and loving the hustle and bustle of Tel Aviv, my eyes and ear will always be open...ready for the next desert adventure.






Up Next: Why I Moved to Israel: Part III or OHMYGOD I LOVE COSTUMES!!!!

Why I Moved to Israel: Part I or "The Most Zionist Piece I Have Ever Written"

Might as well get the controversial stuff out there for my first real post. This was originally much longer and included other reasons I moved here, but for now I will just address the question that was often asked of me when I left, "How can you support a country like that?"

I came to Israel on my birthright trip in late July. I have never called myself a zionist, nor have I ever considered myself to be religious. I went to Hebrew school and got bat-mitzvah'ed at 13, stuck around for another year of Jewish education and then decided I didn't want to go anymore. The only temple services I have been to since then are funerals, and it was at one such funeral of a wonderful young woman that I realized that I am an atheist. I struggled to call myself Jewish after this and did what many young Jews do, refer to myself as culturally Jewish. I thought I was being cute. How can anyone possibly be an atheist and still belong to a religion? Well, apparently Jews can, just ask half of Tel Aviv. I was nervous to say I was an atheist during birthright until the second day when one of the Israeli soldiers on our trip said "I don't believe in God, but of course I keep shabbat and I am a Jew and I must protect my country."I didn't feel so weird after that.

I was immediately smitten with Israel. I loved everything about it - the beautiful landscape, the pushy people, the insane mix of the sacred and the sacrilegious, the food, the music...everything (save for the Ultra Orthodox influence, but let's save that for another post). Do I agree with everything the Israeli government does? Of course not, but if I were to lay out all I disagree with that the US government does against all I disagree with that the Israeli government does I'm fairly sure the US would be the greater offender.

On one of the first days of birthright our guide had us divide into groups of "agree, disagree or don't know" when he asked us controversial questions. One of the questions was something along the lines of "As a Jew I have unconditional support of Israel." Being the feisty woman that I am, I was in the disagree group and ready and willing to debate (which I soon found is a common thread among Jews...my word, are we an argumentative bunch). "Why should I place Jews as any higher than other people simply because I am one? Why should I support Israel in the atrocities it commits just because some of these people came from the same place I did?" Our guide let the discussion happen and said "We'll see how you feel at the end of the trip."

A few days into the trip (note: Birthright or "Taglit" is 10 days long and anyone who has done it will tell you the crazy amount of things that are crammed into those ten days. It is exhausting.) we went to Independence Hall, where Israel declared itself a country in the middle of war. We were shown a cheesy video about the founding of Tel Aviv and then led into the room where the first Israeli government was created and met. We had an incredible speaker with one of the most common and effective Jewish traits...he was an excellent story teller. It wasn't until he started saying "How amazing! We can have a Jewish army to protect us? A Jewish airline so we can travel? Jewish police who care about our needs?" that the reality actually hit me. The Russian/Polish/German/whatever governments didn't protect the Jews, they have always been outcasts who relied on their own community to protect themselves, and obviously in cases of WWII they were not able to. You can see this today in NYC where the Hasidic communities tend to be somewhat self-sufficient, including have their own ambulances. I have never really suffered any anti-semitism having grown up in liberal Jewy areas, so I had never really thought much about it. But it started to make so much sense...of course the Jews have needed to flock together, no one else wanted us, and now there is a safe area for all of them. "Never again" is a common zionist phrase, and with the formation of Israel "never again" is actually a possibility. Without the state of Israel there is no chance nor promise that Jews will not be killed simply for being Jews. It's happened over and over again throughout history and there is no reason to believe it wouldn't happen again. It was then that I changed my mind about the question of support for Israel. Yes, of course I support Israel (note: the state's right to exist, not necessarily the way it has/is happening), and in my mind anyone who believes in human rights ought to support the existence of Israel.

Later in the trip we went to the Western Wall. The old city of Jerusalem is the only officially sanctioned area that the Ultra Orthodox rabbinate control (there are also Haredi neighborhoods but I believe their rules are more from public pressure than actual laws). My immediate reaction to the area is anger as my biggest gripe with the Orthodox is their insufferable treatment of women. The tiny segment of wall that is left is divided between the men's and women's side. The women's side is significantly smaller (even though it was recently expanded) so the women have to crowd and push. I took this picture the other day, it was raining out and you can see how the women  on the right are all squeezed together while the men have room.

I was grumbling as I approached the Western Wall (or the Kotel in Hebrew), angry that women are treated as lesser beings and not particularly excited about some religious site as I don't believe in the Torah anyway. The history of the Kotel is pretty fascinating, I'm not going to go into it now, but suffice to say - this wall is the oldest remnant of Jewish history. It was part of the Second Temple and built between 516 BCE and 70 CE to replace the First Temple, which like all important Jewish things, was destroyed. If you like history, look up information about the Kotel, the amount of times it has changed hands and been destroyed and rebuilt is pretty incredible, not to mention The Dome of the Rock and the Muslim significance of the area. Anyway, back to me grumbling. I was pissed off I had to cover my shoulders and knees, it was really hot out and I was jealous of my male counterparts who were wearing shorts. How dare anyone tell me how to dress. I also felt disconnected from the more pious people on our trip and found it all rather silly. It's just an old wall after all.

It is not just an old wall. Not at all. Many people will say they feel the hand of God when they touch the wall, and I understand why they say that. I touched the wall and placed my forehead against it and the feeling was electric. I did not expect what happened at all. The second I touched the wall I could feel energy pulsing through me - entire generations of stubborn Jews coursing through my veins. It is here I discovered my religiosity (a word I borrow from a great essay about how theatre can be religion). I do not believe in God, I do not believe in Heaven of Hell or any kind of afterlife or reincarnation or grand karmic scheme. I believe in people. I am amazed by people. Many of my fellow burners (people who go to Burning Man for those who don't know) will understand what I mean, as they know the feeling of "We did this. We created this, and it is all for us." I am in awe with what people can do, and I'd rather believe in them than some ethereal moralistic fairy tale. I believe in the Jewish people. When I touched that wall I felt the strength of my people, not God. I felt the thousands of years of oppression, of fighting, of pain and death, but I also felt the strength, and dedication and unbelievable stubbornness of a people that refuse to stop, no matter how many times they are conquered or butchered. Such toughness and fortitude, such amazing bravery. When I returned to America after this trip several people told me I had gained (more) swagger and confidence. It is at the Kotel I found it. I found pride and belief and the power to say "I will have what I want."

Israel is important and it needs to exist. Many of you (burners) know that "home" is not necessarily the place you live, but it's where you find your fellow freaks, the world can be lonely until you find such a place. Israel is like that. Here, I have to explain my Hannukah Bush costume because no one knows what a Christmas tree is until they travel outside the country. Here, everyone keeps shabbat (there will definitely be a post about shabbat in Israel, it's awesome). Here, debate comes standard and is expected. Here, Hine Mah Tov is sung on the streets. Here, a complete stranger will take care of you if you are in need and feed you and clothe you because you are Jewish, therefore you are family. I never expected to feel this way about Israel, but I do. So I am here, maybe for just five months, maybe for longer. For a nomad with no hometown there is something surprisingly familiar and comforting about this land. I am a part of it and it is a part of me.





So there we go, zionist schpiel out of the way. Tomorrow the group leaves for the Negev for three days which will make a lovely segue into my next post, Why I Moved to Israel: Part II or Good, Sweet God How I Love the Desert!

My First Blog

Ok, ok everyone...I am actually going to do this. People have been bugging me since my travels started in April to write a blog and now I'm going to.

Why? Mostly for myself really. So I can remember when things happen, so I can look back and see if my views have changed, so I can actually articulate what I believe and what I feel and know myself better. I also enjoy writing and rarely give myself a chance to flex those muscles, so this is a good option. 

So why not just keep a diary? Why make it public? If you're asking that question it's likely you don't know me too well. I am neither quiet nor bashful. The first thing I want to do when something eventful happens is tell EVERYONE, even if the subject matter (as it often is) is highly inappropriate. I just can't help myself. So why not do the ultimate loud-mouth move and put my thoughts down for everyone to see? I'm an open book anyway, may as well just hang it all out there. 

Many, many of you have claimed you want to keep in touch and hear all about my travels. While I'm sure most of you are earnest in that if we were sitting in a room together hanging out you'd be a captive audience for stories of my travels, I very highly doubt each of you wants to have a little skype conversation...and I'll be honest...I don't want to do that either, I'm shitty enough at phone calls. So I will make posts here and if you want to respond to me or ask me questions at least you'll have something concrete instead of "So how's Israel?"

I don't know how often I will update this. I don't intend on focusing on anything in particular but just what comes up as I find my way in Israel. It's likely there will be super personal details in here, maybe even a naughty story or two (or 10, let's be honest here). This blog will be as I am - without much of a filter and overindulgent. Perhaps it will make you roll your eyes, or giggle or blush or even make you uncomfortable. I don't really know. All I can say is it will be me - nothing but fresh, undiluted and pure, top of the line*. Read it or not, I won't be offended either way. This is more for me than it is for you, but you are welcome to bask in my ridiculous and ever-changing life.

* And yes, it will probably be full of musical references ;)